


MH

by SaraStarchild



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, John needs to communicate with Sherlock more jesus christ, Molly Is Patient, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Poor Molly she takes so much shit, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, THIS ALL COULD'VE BEEN AVOIDED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraStarchild/pseuds/SaraStarchild
Summary: Molly Hooper gets Sherlock's number and signs off her texts with MH...exactly how Mycroft Holmes signs off HIS texts. Insults are thrown and feelings are hurt. Poor, poor Molly...





	MH

**Author's Note:**

> Looking through my computer and found this - written in November 2012 when I brought my laptop with me on the ride from my house in CT to a Guitar Center in RI. There's no reason for that detail I just remember it. I finished it (by adding the last like...3 lines? in 2017. Just now, actually. Ur welcome.

Molly had been waiting for this moment for a long, _long_ time. She was texting Sherlock Holmes.

She had gotten the number from John the other day while they were in the morgue about some sort of case that involved a shopping cart – or at least that's what Molly guessed the cart was for.

“You don't have his number already?” he asked her upon hearing her request for Sherlock's number.

“He – well, he never gave it to me before, so...” she began. “I know you'd have it, and he's always so...in and out, you know how he is I'm sure; you live with him. Just in case he needs to come to the morgue for something...” she said, beginning to babble. She cut herself off and finished with a simple, “Please?”

With a somewhat sad little smile, John took out a pocketbook and pen from a pocket from inside his coat, opened the book to a blank page, and scribbled the ten-digit number that was Sherlock Holmes' phone number.

Molly's heart took off as John ripped the page out of his book and handed it to her. The reality of the situation was crashing down on her, and she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle.

The power to text Sherlock Holmes – whenever she wanted – was in her hands.

Because she didn't want to seem absolutely desperate, she let the slip of paper burn on her nightstand table for about two days, but today would be the day. She was going to text Sherlock  _today_. And so, after Toby (her cat) watched her pace back and forth across the living room of her flat for two hours, she picked up her phone out of her purse in the kitchen table and texted him.

“I'll add my initials – that's cool, right, Toby?” she asked, and the cat on the couch stared back at her. “Right,” she agreed, and added her “MH” initials to the end of her message. 

* * *

 

Sherlock stood in front of his window, playing his violin as delicately as possible as John read from some book Sherlock found dull as hell in front of the fire place, his mind focused on the case. John had found that Sherlock's music reflected his thoughts – the more vigorous the more his mind was going in circles and frustrating him; the softer the more he was in control.

The music was suddenly cut off with a sound of a text alert. John looked up to find Sherlock checking his phone.

“Everything alright?” John asked.

“Fine,” Sherlock replied as he took out his phone. “Hm, new number,” he thought aloud. He read the message.

**Hello, Sherlock. :) - MH**

“Who's it?”

“Mycroft,” Sherlock answered, replying to the message.

* * *

Molly's text alert went off just as the new episode of Glee premiered, and normally Molly would have ignored it, but this time was different – it was Sherlock.

**New phone, I see. Also, a smiley face? Are you serious? I expected better of you. - SH**

Molly was surprised and crushed by Sherlock's response. She was surprised that just by the number Sherlock could tell she had a new phone, and crushed because he was, per usual, being cruel. He was crueler than usual, though, which was even more hurtful.

But she wasn't going to give up – she had to press on.

* * *

“Mycroft put down a smiley-face?” John asked, passing the phone back to Sherlock, trying to imagine the King-Of-Posh Mycroft inserting a smiley face into his messages, giggling like a teenage girl. It was an amusing sight, but not one that fit reality.

“Yes, you saw it yourself,” Sherlock replied, taking back his phone.

“Do you think something's wrong? He's drunk or something?” John had his fair-share of drunk texting with Sherlock, and he was sure as hell he had sent more than one smiley-face to his flatmate.

“Mycroft doesn't get drunk,” Sherlock informed him as the text alert went off again.

**Yes, I did get a new phone. And I didn't know you didn't like smiley faces, I'm sorry – it won't happen again. - MH**

“He's definitely sober. If he was drunk he wouldn't have the reasoning skills to realize that I had said something about the smiley-face and know what I was talking about. Also, look,” he said, showing John his phone. “No spelling mistakes. He's not drunk, John.”

“Okay, then,” John said as Sherlock replied to Mycroft's text.

* * *

**How's the diet? Terrible, I'm guessing, from last time I saw you. - SH**

Molly read the reply once, twice, three times over, her eyes welling up with tears. She knew Sherlock to be heartless, but she never knew him to go out of his way to be this terrible.

“Look...” she said, typing it into her phone as she spoke, having enough of his cruelty. “I just wanted to say hello....I got your number from John when you two were at the morgue....I thought it was be good to have it in case I needed you to come over...But I guess not....Molly.” she replied, pressing send, and then abandoned her phone for Glee.

* * *

“The morgue? …Molly?!” Sherlock looked at John. “You gave my number out to Molly?”

“Oh, I guess I did,” John replied. “...What did you say?”

“I asked him – her – how the diet was going -” Sherlock began, but John took his phone from him. After reading the message, John quickly began typing out a message. “Wait – what are you doing?!” Sherlock asked. “No!” he cried, reaching out to take back his phone, but John dodged him and completed the message, pressing send.

* * *

Molly's text alert went off, but she refused to touch her phone until the episode of Glee was over, and even then she considered just deleting it without even looking.

But it was Sherlock, and so she looked, finding...an apology.

**I'm sorry, I thought you were Mycroft. My mistake. – SH**

Mycroft - Sherlock's brother.

Mycroft Holmes.

MH.

Of course - _of course_. That explained everything. Yes, Sherlock had a tendency of being unnecessarily cruel, but she had heard plenty of rants about his brother. He didn't mean a word he had texted to her, and she knew that, now. He thought she was his brother, the other MH in his life.

Another text came through.

**That explains the emoticon. Continue using them, it didn't bother me. - SH**

Despite herself, she smiled as she texted her reply.

**:) - Molly**

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah the ending is abrupt and shitty but I started this almost 5 years ago I wanted it done okay?


End file.
